


Market Flowers

by pieceofeternity



Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 04:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieceofeternity/pseuds/pieceofeternity
Summary: Flowers are much more than just flowers to Stella, Dana is the only one who understands.
Relationships: Stella Gibson & Dana Scully, Stella Gibson - Relationship, Stella Gibson/Dana Scully
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Market Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> (please be aware that there is allusion to self harm)

Flowers adorned the living room windowsill in the living room of 24 Milburn Lane for as long as Stella could remember. It was a tradition upheld by her Father; George firmly believed a house was not a home unless the scent of flowers filled the room. They varied from week to week, lilies, roses, carnations, freesias, no bunch of flowers ever the same. There was not a time in her life in which Stella could remember there not being flowers sitting in the windowsill. On the days in which she would accompany her Father to the market he would often let her choose which flowers would brighten the living room that week and would opt for her choice no matter if he favoured the flowers or not. Days at the market fast became Stella’s favourite days and remained her fondest memory. Over the years, Stella came to learn that her Father’s favourite colour was blue and often chose flowers of that colour. 

In the days following George’s death the last bunch of flowers he had brought began to wilt and wither, as if they were cruelly mirroring his final days. When the last petal finally fell, Stella decided she could stand the sight of the dwindling flowers no more. She ran to market, the last of her paper round money in her pocket and tear stains down her face and brought the first bunch of blue flowers she could lay her hands on. She silently vowed to herself to never let the vase in the living room windowsill be empty again. A petal from the bunch of flowers Stella brought that day had remained pressed in the front of her journal ever since. From that day the flowers became the only light to pierce through the darkest of days. Stella hung clung to the hope they represented. They remained in the house as concrete as George’s memory. 

-

During the early days of her engagement to Stella, Scully noticed how it became a ritual for Stella to replace the flowers in the living room each week. Admittedly she found it a little odd that no matter how busy Stella was, often forgetting to feed herself or sleep during her toughest of cases, fresh flowers were a priority. But she knew that there were still secrets Stella kept close to her heart, scars that ran deeper than the ones on her thighs, scars that one day she would lay bare to Dana.

It wasn’t until a week into their marriage, when Stella first brought Dana a bunch of pink roses on her way home from work that she explained. She’d looked rather sheepishly at her, her mouth curving up at the way she blushed when she handed her flowers, then quietly requested that Dana place them anywhere except the window in the living room. Part of Stella felt guilty for such a request, the house was now Dana’s home too and she felt she should be able place flowers wherever she wanted. Dana saw the guilt flicker in Stella’s eyes as she had said the words but she understood. She simply took the flowers from Stella and placed them in a vase on the fireplace placing a kiss on Stella’s lips when finished. This kiss was soft and gentle but said more than words could in that moment. It told her that she need not feel guilt for keeping the memory of her father alive, it told her that she would love her for as long as her heart was beating and it told her that she completely understood her request. A pink petal had since lay pressed beside the blue one in the front of Stella’s journal. 

-

Throughout their marriage, Stella often brought Dana flowers, whether it was because she needed cheering up, because she’d had a long day at work or simply because she wanted to see the blush on her wife’s face when she surprised her. Dana had become almost inventive with their placement, the kitchen windowsill, the mantelpiece, the bedroom window. Stella joked that she’d run out of new places to put them. She did smile to himself as he walked into the bathroom the day after she’d made the joke, for there sat the most recent bunch of flowers she’d brought Dana. But the unspoken agreement remained; blue fresh flowers would always sit in the living room window. Dana even replaced them herself in the busier weeks for Stella when she feared she wouldn’t have time to do so herself.

\- 

Stella felt as if she had been winded the moment she noticed the flowers in the living room windowsill had gone. The time had come for Stella and Dana to move out of Stella’s childhood home as their family expanded beyond their wildest dreams. Packing up had been more emotionally demanding than they’d both anticipated. Dana had tried to ensure that the vase in which the flowers had always been would be one of the last things to be packed, even in the chaos of moving she wanted the house to feel like home. But on their final day in the house the vase had made its way to a box, safely wrapped up with the rest of their possessions. Stella knew that the memories didn’t belong the house, but to her heart. Yet still, she couldn’t stop the tear that slipped from her eye at the sight of the empty windowsill, the first time it had been so since that fateful day. This was how Dana found her, staring at the empty space. She slipped an arm round her shoulder and didn’t flinch as the sob Stella had been suppressing finally escaped her. Dana simply pulled her wife closer and allowed her to bury her face in the crook of her shoulder. A safe space for Stella. The only space in which she would allow herself to be vulnerable. In that moment Dana needed to allow Stella to be the small girl that was still within her, the small girl that still felt the aching loss of her Daddy. 

-

After an initial mishap of lost furniture, the new Scully-Gibson residence began to fill with their belongings and the house finally began to feel like a home. The home in which the family would grow, where they’d thrive. It was the place where their unborn child would be welcomed into the world and take his first steps, the place where George junior would be dressed in his very first school uniform, where their second child would be born on Christmas eve. The home would house all the memories that they had yet to create

As Dana was putting up the pictures in the living room, the last of the finishing touches to make the new place feel truly homely, she heard the distinctive sound of Stella’s stilettos as she returned from work, having been yet again called in last minute. Stella approached Dana and wrapped her arms around her waist, peering over her shoulder to take a moment to survey their living room. 

“It’s finally starting to feel like home,” Stella whispered into her ear and Dana’s lips curved into a small proud smile as she spoke. Stella was slightly surprised when Dana didn’t respond but quietly slipped out her embrace and left the room. When she returned, Stella felt her eyes involuntary fill with tears as Dana placed a bouquet of Blue hyacinths on the living room windowsill in the same vase in which her Father’s flowers had always sat. Dana took Stella’s hand in hers, interlacing their fingers in a motion that was second nature to them. 

“Now it feels like home.”

**Author's Note:**

> please go easy this is my first venture into Stella and Dana fic!


End file.
